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Friday, July 31, 2015

L to R: Celebrating saying yes to my new place; getting the keys; waiting for the utilities guy

I had a dream about the apartment the night I emailed Craigslist poster who'd shared the listing online. In my dream, the landlord sent me back a harsh, one-line message informing me that the apartment had gone to someone who she deemed a better prospective tenant. The listing was online for less than 24 hours before being snatched up by someone who was faster on the hunt than me.

It was one of those "Did that really happen or did I dream it?" scenarios, so realistic that I woke up feeling like I'd just read a rejection email dashing my Cleveland apartment dreams. That next day, I compulsively checked my email, certain my dream was actually a premonition.

I don't know why I felt so immediately attached to that apartment. I'd only seen four photos of it, & they weren't even particularly descriptive ones. But I saw the bay windows, & I saw the wood floors, & I saw the affordable rent in a difficult-to-afford Cleveland neighborhood, & I just had a feeling, you know? I had a feeling that apartment was going to be my home, & I desperately wanted it to be.

Earlier that day, I had come home from a Fourth of July weekend in Cincinnati feeling like I was going to explode if I didn't start looking for apartments immediately. After spending some time in a city again, I remembered that I just really love cities & desperately wanted to live in one again. I
also realized that I'd become uncomfortable with my standard
response to people who asked what I was up to since moving home. "I'm
planning to move to Cleveland," I'd tell them, but it was just an
intangible dream. I was doing no actual planning because I was scared.

But then my desire to get the proverbial ball rolling bubbled up & spilled over, & I had to do something. That same night, I took to Craigslist & PadMapper, to Apartment.com & Rent.com,
emailing anyone whose listing seemed like it fit my criteria, which
included:

Apartment, not a house

Preferably in a managed building

No roommates

In a desirable neighborhood

Preferably with an actual Cleveland address

Allows cats

I sent out a dozen email inquiries that night, figuring I'd look at a few apartments to start feeling comfortable with the process but that I wouldn't actually move for awhile. Still, the apartment with the bay windows in Tremont stood out. I wasn't quite ready to move yet, but I felt like it was supposed to be mine.

That night came the dream, & the next day came all the repeated refreshing of my email inbox. Halfway through the day, a response arrived. My palms sweating & my heart beating loudly, I felt certain that when I opened it, it would tell me the place had already been claimed.

Taking a deep breath & bracing myself for disappointment, I clicked "open" to read a message from Anna, the landlord of the apartment with the bay windows. It began,

Hi Kate. This might get a little windy, but bear with me,
please. I pre-screen potential tenants by whether or not, and how, they
reply to my questions. I've also spent the last 45 minutes or so getting
sucked into your blog. I love how you write! Fabulous combination of
proper language skills, American lingo, and honest, thoughtful stories.
As a landlord, clear, honest and open communication is critical, and I
hope you'll become my tenant!

I was floored. I was ecstatic. I was so proud of this little blog for being a good enough representation of my personality that it convinced the landlord of a charming Cleveland apartment that I was a worthy renter.

I drove up to Cleveland that night, where I was overjoyed to discover that the apartment has not just one but two huge bay windows, plus two cute coffee shops within easy walking distance. The kitchen is huge, the wood floors are lovely, & the apartment has four rooms, which is more space than I've ever really dreamed of having while living alone. And to top it off, the landlord reminds me of a hybrid of my mother & an older version of myself.

Basically, it was a no-brainer. I said yes to it on the spot, & I got the keys last Friday. I moved some stuff in last weekend but stayed with my mom this week, & we'll move all my furniture in tomorrow afternoon.

And then? Then I'll be a real Clevelander, this thing I've dreamed of for the better part of a decade now.

Tuesday, July 28, 2015

The first/last time I went camping, I was probably about 7 years old. My Uncle Jim & my dad took my younger cousin Emily & me to God-knows-where campground in bufu Ohio for a quick weekend in the woods. We probably stayed near a covered bridge, because my dad & my uncle used to explore them together. Neither of them is/was particularly outdoorsy, though (sorry, Uncle Jim), so I can't imagine we were very hardcore about any of it. I remember that a raccoon stole our food in the middle of the night & that we might've gone home early because of it.

As you can imagine, when my boyfriend Mike asked me if I wanted to go camping this month with him & his friends, I was both skeptical & enthusiastic.Mostly, I was very gung-ho about making my triumphant (ha) return to the activity of communing with nature.

Uh, did I mention that I am basically the opposite of outdoorsy?

I am so indoorsy, in fact, that Mike made fun of me when he arrived at my mom's house to pick me up. I had chosen to forgo my anxiety medicine in favor of being able to booze with the gang that night, so I was, shall we say, on high alert. I was all packed, with no idea whether I'd actually brought any of the right things, & no one was sure whether my parents' old tent, purchased circa 1992, still had all the right accoutrements to make it a passable outdoor dwelling. I had brought, like, four small bottles of Purell & was planning to subsist on PB&J sandwiches & small bags of goldfish crackers all weekend.

In other words, I was ready.

The campground where we were headed, Mohican Reservations in Loudonville, OH, is less than two hours away from my hometown, but the differences between them blew my mind. How is it possible that there's so much old-timey farmland just around the corner from my suburban oasis? On our drive south, we passed half a dozen Mennonite churches, three Amish buggies, two men standing in a field pushing a cow, & a man in overalls asleep on a riding mower in the middle of a field. Though we'd agreed to turn off our cell phones once we got in the car,
I couldn't stick to it because everything was passed along the way
was hilarious enough to deserve its own tweet. I felt like I'd time-traveled to the early 1900s.

When we arrived at the campground, I was surprised to find that it was nothing like I'd expected. I knew we'd be, like, on the ground in the woods, but I'd imagined it it to be much more "Fend for yourself" than "You can buy toilet paper & marshmallows at the general store at the center of camp." As it turns out, Mohican is basically a huge, open plot of land along a river (the Mohican River, incidentally), & there are literally hundreds of people camping there at any given time during the summer. This wasn't, like, stranded-in-the-woods camping. I was both relieved & disappointed.

We were camping with a group of about 30 (!!!), so we were relegated to a
portion of the campground that was somewhat segregated from the rest of
the guests. We could hear them, & certainly we could see them as we
trekked the quarter of a mile to the outhouses in times of bodily need,
but for the most part, we didn't have to interact with anyone else,
which lent a more secluded vibe to the weekend.

And it went so well.

Our tent wasn't missing any pieces, even though we assembled it drunk. I slept on a sleeping bag set atop a yoga mat & somehow got a good night's sleep. I sweated so much that I had five bottles of water on Saturday morning & never had to pee. We tubed down the river, full of beer & covered in mud, & I somehow wasn't afraid of aquatic life. We cooked copious hotdogs over the grill & a very kind veteran camper let me make breakfast bacon on her grill (OK, she mostly did it for me). I did not eat a single PB&J sandwich, but I did consume a lot of PBR & exactly as many Goldfish crackers as predicted.

I don't know what I was expecting, but I didn't need that Xanax, after all. I sneezed more than usual, but not as much as expected (thanks, Zyrtec). I wore zero makeup but lots of extra-strength deodorant, & my organic bug
spray miraculously shielded me from every single mosquito that might've
bitten done me harm. I rinsed off in the campground's communal showers after floating down the river, & I felt like it got me cleaner than I'd ever been in my life. My back hurt from sleeping on the ground, but at the end of the weekend, my heart was so full that it didn't really matter.

Camping had me out of my element, to be sure, but it was also one of the most relaxing, enjoyable experiences I've had in a long time (not mention one of the sweatiest). I'm already hoping to do it again - but maybe I'll wait until autumn?

Tuesday, July 21, 2015

Spending time with my mom: Truly, the best thing about living at home has been living with my mom, which is maybe a thing I'm not supposed to say at age 30. But really, after seven years of living hours away from her, it's been great to be able to watch the new episode of Grey's together or meet her for happy hour on a Friday after work or grab lunch in the middle of the work day.

Eating homemade food: Speaking of meals, my mom is an excellent maker-of-things & a very kind soul who occasionally makes me: fruit smoothies, veggie juice, dirty chai lattes, turkey wraps, BBQ pulled chicken, & other such delicacies. I'm, uh, not awesome at fending for myself when it comes to nutrition, so I'll miss her occasional interventions in the form of healthy food.

Cuddling with the puppies: When I first moved home, I wasn't a big fan of my mom's two chihuahua mixes, Chyna & Jed. In time, though, they've become my little buddies. I'll do just fine without their barking & shedding, but I'm definitely going to miss the times when they're my A+ adorable furry BFFs.

Living in a whole house: Aside from living with my mom, I've only ever lived in apartments - & usually small ones, at that. While the apartment I'm moving into is way bigger than past pads, it's been nice living in a house with rooms! and stairs! and a basement! for a bit.

Having a yard: If I'm being totally honest, I don't spend a lot of time in our yard. I'm not a gardener or a sunbather - I'm a little bit, how you say... indoorsy - but having lived in apartment complexes for the better part of the last decade, it's been a luxury just to know the yard is there. I love sitting on the patio on sunny weekends or listening to the rain fall from our porch on stormy nights - activities you can't enjoy sans backyard.

Watching cable: I'm sure I won't spring for cable once I move because it's spendy & when you have Netflix & Hulu, why bother? But there's something comforting about settling in on the couch on a lazy day, scrolling through the channels & landing on something totally random. With Netflix & Hulu, I have to, like, decide what I want to watch. That can be, like, soooo stressful. [Dramatic sigh.]

Working from "my" Starbucks: I have grown to love the Starbucks location that I work from at least three days a week. It's big & bright & comfortable, & the baristas are usually friendly. Some of them know me by name & occasionally do nice things, like give me a venti when I pay for a grande. There are other regulars here, too, people I've never spoken to but trust to keep an eye on my stuff if I need to use the restroom. It's the little things, man.

Hearing the train: Our house is just yards away from train tracks, & though passing trains always scare the bejeezus out of visitors, I've always found the sound comforting. It blares all day long, in mid-afternoon & in the middle of the night, & while it's usually loud as hell, it just sounds like home. When I'm away, I fall asleep to a white noise app that includes train sounds, but nothing beats the real thing

Not paying rent: OK, OK, I know, I'm an adult, & I know adults pay rent - or mortgages, or whatever. Adults have to pay to to live wherever they live. But it's been really nice to take a quick break from that - to save money, to pay off some of my loans, & yes, to indulge in some luxuries I couldn't otherwise afford (hello, subscription box obsession). Thanks, Mom, for letting me pay you in dinner dates instead of rent checks.

Having a driveway: I technically have a parking spot at my new place, but it's one of those weird ones that's sort of on the sidewalk & will definitely be a pain in the butt in the winter. I'm glad to have parking at all, but I will certainly miss the reliable little driveway sidecar spot I've got at my mom's place.

Being in familiar surroundings: I know Cuyahoga Falls. I feel comfortable in Cuyahoga Falls.And while I don't want to live in Cuyahoga Falls for the rest of my life, I have absolutely enjoyed being back here - much more than I expected to, actually. I used to think this place was so podunk, & maybe it is, but the older I get, the more I value home. Every small-town resident complains about running into high school classmates at the gym & ex-boyfriends' mothers at the grocery store, but I secretly love it. Yeah, I said it: I love Cuyahoga Falls.

But I'm gonna love this next step, too, I just know it. I get the keys to my new apartment on Friday, & then it becomes official: I'm about to become a Clevelander!

Sunday, July 19, 2015

One of my New York coworkers confused Cincinnati & Cleveland the other day, & I scoffed, "Cincinnati is practically Kentucky." My boss chimed in, with one of those laughs that is not really meant to be funny, "And Cleveland is practically what? Western Pennsylvania?" Low blow, people who think Ohio is the sticks.

But I love Cleveland, & Cincinnati is, well, Cincinnati. It's nearly a four-hour drive from home &, like, what's even there? My aunt & uncle & cousins live in the suburbs, & I've always enjoyed visiting them - not least of all because they have a great swimming pool in their backyard - but as a city, Cincinnati has never held much allure for me.

When I visited the family over Fourth of July weekend, I changed my mind.

As it turns out, Cincinnati is kind of awesome. My family & I went downtown the day after the holiday to spend some time exploring the city's many recent developments, & I was so impressed by it that I even had a moment of wondering, "Should I move here instead of Cleveland?" I mean, my mind wasn't that changed. But I had such a good time that I'm already planning my next visit.

The city had long been readying itself for the 2015 All-Star Game, which meant everything was in tip-top shape & full of quirky details like... mustaches everywhere? I'm not sure why they chose mustaches, but there was one painted onto a tall building, & there were funny little statues of them all over the place (both seen below).

In the center of it is the Roebling
Suspension Bridge, which connects Cincinnati to Covington, Kentucky,
across the water. When the bridge opened in 1866, it was the longest
suspension bridge in the world, at 1,056 feet long. By now, it's fallen to 145th on the list of the world's longest suspension bridges (the Verrazano-Narrows is the longest in the U.S.), but I still think it's beautiful.

We spent most of our time at the newly renovated Smale Waterfront Park, set along the Ohio River overlooking Kentucky. It's 40 acres large & one of the coolest parks I've ever visited, despite the fact that it's still unfinished in the midst of a $120 million renovation. When we visited, it was still under construction & awaiting elements like an esplanade & a farmers market, which I know because we made small talk with a chatty woman who's studying for the Cincinnati Parks Foundation's docent test.

There's so much to see in this park. It's full of creative playground elements, like interactive fountains, a rope bridge, some wacky-looking slides, & a big, metal pig with wings on a high-up pole, which kids can climb into for a quick "flight." It's designed to create opportunities for "inadvertent exercise" so that kids can get healthy while they have fun - & obviously it's also a site for lots of adorable scenes.

One of my favorite parts of the park were these massive, metal porch swings that overlook the river. They would be the perfect place to sit on a sunny day (which was not exactly the case on the overcast afternoon we visited) to eat lunch or go on a little picnic date. My other favorite part of the park was Carol Ann's Carousel, a gorgeous, brand new carousel housed in a large glass "box" that, of course, overlooks the river. It costs $2 to ride, & you get an adorable, old-timey token after you've paid. There are 44 animals to choose from, including standard horses & more uncommon characters like a ladybug, a bat, & a housefly. My mother opted for a large rabbit, & I, perhaps unsurprisingly, chose the cardinal - Ohio's state bird, duh. I also got really excited about the term #carouselfie, though I suppose that because someone else took this photo, that term doesn't actually apply here. Just go with it.

We weren't in downtown Cincinnati for long, & despite a very full afternoon, we actually didn't get very much sightseeing in, so I'm already thinking of making another visit that way in the near future. I'd like to check out the American Sign Museum & the Underground Railroad Museum & also maybe some things that aren't museums, like... I have no idea what, because I don't know what else is actually in Cincinnati - but I love the idea of continuing to explore Ohio & falling further in love with all the mini adventures this state has in store for me.

Wednesday, July 15, 2015

I turn 31 in a couple weeks, which is a pretty lackluster birthday age. I mean, I guess that's how it goes from here on out, right? The next time you hit a milestone, you're turning 40, so you're probably also weeping a little - & so it goes forever...

The world basically says that once you turn 30, you're not supposed to, like, do stuff for your birthday anymore. Just the other day, I read a Twitter conversation about how you can't have a party or expect presents once you're an adult, but I think that's sort of bunk. I mean, you shouldn't expect a party or presents, but you can definitely invite your friends to happy hour or ask your significant other to go to dinner at your favorite restaurant or whatever the hell you want to do. I firmly believe that birthdays still get to be fun. Forever.

But I do agree that you shouldn't expect presents anymore. What are we, 5? This is not a birthday party in a McDonald's Play Place, you guys. Everyone's got bills to pay & lives to live, & probably no one's sending you gifts anymore. I think, though, that when you hit an age like 31, you should buy yourself a gift - treat yo'self, as the kids say. And if you can't buy yourself a gift because you're putting all your money into a new apartment & the indulgence of monthly subscription boxes? Well, then you should just spend a little time formulating a mental list of future gifts to buy yourself.

Here's mine.

A back massage: I have chronic back pain from that time I had two stainless steel rods inserted around my spine. Like everyone else on the planet, I also carry all my stress in my neck & shoulders, which makes for extra pain on top of chronic pain. I've been aching (literally) for a good back massage, the professional kind, & have thus been scouring Groupon for a good deal at a decent place. Deep tissue grind, I'm comin' for ya.

The Harry Potter boxed set: Why do I need this? OK, I don't need this. But this is a wishlist! It's not about things I need. I own most of the Harry Potter books, but they're all mismatched - some paperback, some hardcover, some in good shape, some battered. I'd love a pretty, matching set that I can show off on the bookshelf in my new apartment. And while I'm on the topic of Harry Potter, I'm also desperate to own a large, framed print of this incredible Hogwarts art from Anne Lambelet Illustration.

Car detailing: I'm not even sure if that's what this is called because I'm still not used to having a car again. Basically, I want someone else to vacuum my vehicle. I'm a relatively not-dirty person, & I've only had this car for seven months. Why is it already full of, like, crumbs & hair?! I found a spiderweb in the door frame the other day, which really made me feel like a trashball of a human. Who wants to do this for me? No one? Goddamnit, adulthood.

Starbucks gift cards: I go to Starbucks every day, maybe you've heard? Granted, I probably won't go nearly as much once I move to Cleveland, because there are none close by & I'll be about two blocks from two independent coffee shops. But as someone who works from "home," I still hoard Starbucks gift cards so that I can score paid-for-by-someone-else drinks on days when I'm a little bit more broke than usual.

An iPhone tripod: I feel like such a social media-loving millennial d-bag for even wanting this, but, like, sometimes a blogger just wants to take a killer non-selfie-looking-selfie & doesn't want to have to prop her phone up on the back porch railing, you know? So sue me.

A flight to Denver: OK, OK, so I'll buy this for myself eventually, but I've been keeping an eye out for low flight pricing so that I can visit my blogger friends Jess & Dominique in Colorado in November for a weekend-long sleepover vacation. This sounds like the best thing ever, especially because it's happening just a few days after a major work conference that will have me all burned out & in need of some relaxation & boozing with ladyfriends.

The 31 Bits Tribal Verdana Necklace: I ordered a 31 Bits necklace a few weeks back & I luuuurve it, all the more so because it's handmade with recycled paper by women earning a living wage in Uganda. The Tribal Verdana necklace is exactly my style, big & bold & kind of weird, perfect against black (the only color I ever really wear), served with a side of social justice.

A giant TV: In my dreams, I watch my Netflix marathons & Game of Thrones binges on one of those movie theater-style screens that you, like, mount against your wall, all flat & beautiful & chic. In real life, I have a 32" flat-screen that my ex gave me that works perfectly fine & absolutely does ot need to be upgraded (if only I could find the remote). A girl can dream though, right? Right. Especially on her birthday & as she plans a move to an adorable new apartment.

Is your birthday coming up? What do you want? Hell, even if your birthday's not coming up, tell me: What's on your personal wishlist at the moment? Let's dream together!

Sunday, July 12, 2015

Apartment-hunting is notably The Worst™. Everyone knows that.

As an added deterrent, though, it can be extra difficult to convince yourself to buck
up & undertake the dreadful process of searching for a new place when you're currently residing with your mom, who you happen to like a lot, in a hometown where you feel comfortable & mostly happy.

By "you" & "yourself," in this case I obviously mean "me" & "myself," as this has been the exact story of my life for the past eight months. I have to admit: It's been so, so nice living at home since moving back to Ohio at the end of November. There were a rough few weeks there at the beginning, but once I settled in, well, it became a pretty sweet deal: friendly mom, cute dogs, big space, familiar town, &, oh, yeah, no rent. I wanted to find my own place, but I wasn't making active moves toward it. Maybe I should've felt a greater sense of urgency, but for most of the last eight months, I just haven't been in any big hurry to move out again.

But I'm going to turn 31 next month. I feel mostly fine about it; I certainly don't feel like I'm on the verge of some late-night emotional meltdown, as I did in the weeks before I turned 30. As my birthday started to loom nearer, though, I began to feel like I should be moving toward something - like maybe it was time to move out of my mom's house & into my own place in Cleveland, the thing I came home to do.

It's not that I'm embarrassed to be living with my mom. I'm mostly not. I'm not here because I'm down & out & falling apart; I have a full-time, well-paying job, & I made a fiscally smart decision to save money by living here for a bit. On top of that, being in such proximity to my mama, especially after so many years away, has been a dream ("59 out of every 60 minutes," as she likes to say). I told myself I'd stay here until I found something I liked, something that felt right, because it's pretty A-OK here, & I didn't want to rush this & end up in some crummy apartment that I wanted to move out of yet again in 12 months.

For the last seven months, I felt comfortable with that decision, & I wasn't looking for apartments. Honestly, I wasn't even thinking about looking for apartments, despite the fact that I was still telling people I was "planning to move to Cleveland." Sometime during course of the last month, though, with 31 in the horizon, I started to realize whyI wasn't making any forward motion, & it wasn't because I didn't want to. It was because of fear.

I wasn't just being fiscally savvy or enjoying living with my mom. I was also inexplicably terrified to strike out on my own again, afraid of falling flat on my face. I was - am- afraid of paying rent again, of not being able to afford things I want, of having to act like a real adult, of the possible loneliness of living on my own, of living in a new city, of maybe not having any friends, of starting over yet again... One of my worst habits is that I am always so afraid of new beginnings, & despite what I thought were my best efforts, this time is no different.

When realized that I had begun to use my "I'm just being responsible!" explanation as an excuse, I also realized that it wasn't resonating with me anymore. During those months when I really meant it, I felt OK about it when I realized that I had begun to use it as a means of getting out of trying - & of possibly failing - I started to feel uneasy. I wanted to move. I was just too scared.

I've always been the kind of person who
doesn't until I do. I don't feel compelled to take action until all of a
sudden, it feels like time to take immediate action - & this process of finding an apartment was no different. All of a sudden, I decided it was time, & so the hunt began, quickly & with a vengeance.

If you follow me on Instagram or we're friends on Facebook, you probably already know part two of this story: I found an apartment in Cleveland! That is a story for another post, & it's one I plan to write soon. But for now, I'm trying not to panic as the countdown to moving day begins.

Oh, who am I kidding? I'm always panicking; that's sort of the point. But I'm also finally taking steps forward. I decided to do this - I came back to do this - & I'm finally about to do it. Fear or not, I will become a Clevelander - this month.

Sunday, July 5, 2015

I've been accused, by more than one friend as of late, of being a
liiiiittle bit obsessed with subscription boxes. At this time, I would
like to go on record as saying that this is both totally true &
patently false.

Wait, what?

OK, based
on some of my recent Instagram posts, I can understand how it certainly
looks as though I receive, like, every subscription box to ever exist. I
do really love subscription boxes as a general concept (monthly
surprises!), & I enjoy the ones I get. At this time, however, I only subscribe to four, not a million, as friends have assumed. I mean,
"only" four, ridiculousness noted. But still.

I know there are, like, entire blogs dedicated to this stuff, & that every blogger who's ever blogged
has blogged about the subscription boxes she loves. Normally, I wouldn't
have thought to write about this, but because I've been accused asked a few times lately, I thought I'd share with you an overview of what I get & how I feel about it.

Wait, wait, maybe this box is my
favorite box? It's been all over my Instagram, & I wrote about it once already: Rocksbox is a personal styling service for jewelry, &
for $19 a month, their stylists send you three pieces of jewelry per box that are chosen especially for you based upon your style profile, specific requests, & past-box feedback. You can get
more than one box a month depending on how quickly you send your items
back, though you can, of course, also buy the pieces you like most
(which I have done more times than my wallet cares to admit). You can get a free month (!!!) with referral code heyescapistxoxo.

Ah, that old standby: the original subscription box!
I got my first Birchbox a few years ago, when I won one from a fashion
blog. I subscribed immediately & then, when I had accumulated way
more trial-sized items than I could ever use, I cut ties. A few months
ago, though, I reactivated my subscription... mostly because I was
hooked by their recent social media marketing efforts. At just $10 a
month, it's an easy way to try new products I'd never find on my own,
though I rarely buy full-size products beyond the samples they send. If
you've never gotten Birchbox (by now, I feel like everyone has), you can try it for $10 a month using my referral link.
Over the years, I've
also tried: Glossybox, which I canceled because it was too expensive
for my tastes; Julep Maven, which I canceled because I don't even paint
my nails; Ipsy, which I canceled because everything was tacky &
low-budget; & Stitchfix, which I canceled because they seem unable
to dress any bigger than a size 10. I'm sure there are other
subscriptions I'd love, but I don't even want to know what they are*
lest I drain my entire monthly budget on boxes of surprise goodies.

OK,
OK, so maybe I'm a little bit obsessed with subscription boxes after all. The truth is that I would
subscribe to more of them if I could - so it's probably a good thing I
can't. But tell me: *What subscription boxes have you tried?